Mass Effect: Tenacity
by Solvent Harp37
Summary: Alternate First Contact. Monster Hunter x Mass Effect crossover. Pre-ME1 through ME3. Rate M for depictions of graphic violence. Not pairing-centric. Humanity advances more quickly with the use of Ancient Civilization information caches, and finds the prothean ruins on Mars earlier. Galactic governments really only look out for themselves, don't they?
1. Timeline

A/N: I haven't written anything new in years but inspired by so many great Humanity Fuck Yeah fics, I decided to give it a go. This is the mandatory timeline establishment chapter so I'm really going to try and flesh this out. Hopefully, enough bullshitting will make this work. :)

12/12/16: fixed some mistakes, added to the Codex.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware/EA. Monster Hunter is property of Capcom. I own nothing.

 _ **Thousands of years ago…**_

Known only as the Ancient Civilization, a highly advanced society ruled absolute on Earth for an untold length of time. Technologically adept, the scientists at the time began to experiment with artificial enhancements in order to ease the burden of hunting for the Guild's "Monster Hunters". Hunters have nanobot analogues introduced to their bodies through methods lost to time, though researchers across various factions have many theories.

Spreading throughout the body, the nanobots were capable of interaction with one another to form various crystalline structures. Centered around bones, they increased a Hunter's strength to the point where a Great Sword wielder could cleave the tail off a Rathalos in a single swing. Layered thick and evenly through muscle and bone they increased overall body density allowing Hunters to block heavy strikes that would otherwise send them flying or kill them in a single blow. Working with the nervous and immune system allowed for rapid healing of otherwise fatal blows, with broken bones functional in just over a standard minute and rupture of the femoral artery healed in seconds.

Only one of these structures could be maintained at a time but they would revolutionize the world. These structures became known as "Hones" as they "honed" the body into something greater. Even without a specific Hone, simply having the nanobots in your body made better you than before. Regardless of their Hone, Hunters were found to be smarter after the experiments than before which was likely tied to having nanobots in every part of their body, including the brain. Met with great success having increased the durability, power, and intelligence of the average Hunter, experiments continue until nearly everyone in the Guild is the equivalent of a "super soldier". The experiments diversify to include testing on various monsters, particularly species of intelligent wyverns, and Elder Dragons. Domestic animals were meant to be controls, but of these, cats would take to them in unexpected ways.

Felynes, as they are known henceforth, are the descendants of the Ancient Civilization's cat-based experiments. Once quadrupedal and incapable of communicating with any humanoid, they have since become valued, and the Most Adorable, members of society. Capable of bipedal movement and human speech these creatures are acknowledged as sentient. They are a hardy species found in every environment from the barren tundra to sweltering deserts. They are known distant relatives of the Shakalakas. Though what exactly it is the Shakalakas are remains a mystery due to their aggression. It was through them that augmentation was found to be hereditary, as the offspring of altered individuals were superior to their unchanged cousins in numerous ways. The degree of augmentation would degrade for many generations before plateauing at a middle ground better than the non-altered but inferior to those of previous experimented generations. Felynes are known for breaking their speech with primitive, natural sounds as they are unable to completely leave their animal roots behind. Overtime, they began to emulate Monster Hunters they saw in the wilderness which would lead to a close partnership between Felynes and the Guild. While domestic cats as they once were still exist, Felynes are the more populous species and the two do not interbreed. They are the only case of an augmented species that did not contribute to the Great Wyvern War and the fall of the AC.

Augmentation upon wyverns and Elder Dragons likely went along a similar line to the Felynes but with disastrous consequences. Intended for use as heavy labor, they were subject to experiments with nanobot analogues designed specifically to increase the complexity of brain function. While initially this allowed the dangerous creatures to be tamed and used in the construction of the Tower, Sky Corridor, and Cloud Viewing Fortress among others, only the ruins of these great structures remain. It is believed that wyverns had grown to understand and even "speak" to the Hunters that worked with them in the AC though no concrete evidence has been found to back that belief. Despite this, for centuries Hunters have noted that monsters seemed to react to certain phrases in the battlefield. The Guild reissues a statement denying the veracity of such claims as hyperbole whenever they begin to circulate. In any case, as the AC began to experiment with creating their own biological constructs and weapons, discontent grew in the ranks of the wyverns and Elder Dragons.

The Equal Dragon Weapon was made through unclear means at the cost of the lives of hundreds of animals. This led to resentment, and the sentient creatures rebelled, leaving the AC and unifying to wage war on their former masters. The augmented monsters apparently rallied other creatures and the result was the first World War. What truly occurred is unknown, but the majority of monsters were driven to extinction and the Ancient Civilization collapsed for good. The Legend of the Black Dragon is entertained as the only document with any truth about what happened by scholars, and even those who would dismiss it as a fairy tale admit that it at least serves as a warning to anyone who would forget their place in nature and anger a Fatalis.

But as with every war, someone survives and rises anew while others continue as they did before, growing and changing in the meantime.

 **563-959 AD – Earth**

The Hunter's Guild began to come under attack by nation-states. Sworn to preserve monsters from extinction, and to protect helpless people from the monsters in turn the Guild had long since established itself as a neutral force in political affairs. Monster Hunters were not soldiers to be thrown into combat for a country but to maintain a boundary between humans and monsters allowing both to live in relative peace with very little interaction. Most humans never see a large monster more than once in a lifetime, and smaller monsters like Velociprey are generally nuisances that can be chased away from farm animals by big dogs or groups of Felynes.

This long standing tradition had kept border villages safe as in war time as even the presence of a Monster Hunter could curtail a military force for fear of the Guild withdrawing from the nation entirely. It was common practice to deploy Hunters to such places for that very reason. The Guild did not see virtue in protecting innocent people from monsters only to have them left at the mercy of ruthless soldiers. However, having grown tired of the Guild's passive aggression, some king whose name was known but later erased from all documentation, sent his soldiers through a Guild town anyway. His soldiers burnt the city to the ground but that was not without cost.

The Monster Hunters split into pairs and escorted civilians to a Guild Hall farther in-land before returning to bear witness to the scene. Unfortunately, the king had come to send a message in blood.

Monster Hunters by this time were the descendants of those augmented in the AC long before. They had great strength and heart and life, carried weapons too heavy for the best soldier in any army to lift, and wore armor strong enough to withstand repeated strikes from even Elder Dragons. They were the best shield a people could hope to maintain peace, but the worst sword to call into action in war. MonHuns had never fought other humans before. That is not to disrespect them so as to imply they died quickly, but to say that they fought for longer than the army believed, though very poorly. The bodies are hunks of meat in armor by the time the townspeople and Guild arrive in force.

Limbs severed by exploitation of armor openings designed to protect from thick diving talons and not nimble blades of steel. Helmets strewn about in the streets, faces slashed and burned. One was decapitated with the offending axe buried in the ground where it sank after the necessary repeated blows to cut through his Armor Hone, his mouth frozen in a scream. A dual blade user fell to mortar fire, another's Long Sword was broken, turned and run through them. A charge blade in sword-and-shield form was clutched tightly in the hands of a body skewered on a miniature Dragonator – believed to have been the last to die as blood was still dripping from where her head had been attached to her neck, the Life Hone glowing faintly and futile. Around them, the bodies of countless soldiers lined the streets, in twisted pieces on burnt merchant stalls, caved in chests from hammer blows, bleeding eyes and ears from hunting horn deafening, and all around are scattered light-bowgun shells, empty charge phials…

These brave souls were immortalized as "GUARDIANS" by the Guild, and to speak their names in times of terror became common place.

Thirty-two Guild Hall cities fall to multiple armies around the world, sometimes enemies working in tandem emboldened by the onset and not to be outdone by rivals. Countless civilians die for all that the Hunters fight valiantly for them. Burning effigies show up on the way to fortress cities like Dundorma. Worse, many arise before the Guild Halls with pieces of genuine armor from Hunters who had disappeared without a trace. These fear tactics cause the Guild to withdraw all their forces into the larger settlements, filling them to overcapacity with civilians and MonHuns alike. The strain on resources leads to famine and people begin to die on the streets despite rationing of the Guild's emergency stores. The civilians will not survive a war of attrition, the Guild knows, so it does as it always has and plans. Doctrine and morality are written and reworded. They will not allow this to stand.

"We have kept the peace between monsters and people for millennia. We have kept villages safe behind walls, kept wyverns away from poachers with valleys, we have kept this world alive by venturing out and doing the things no one else can do. But we have been outside too long, we have ignored the monsters that grew up inside our very homes! The atrocities we have endured here have desecrated everything the Guild has done for the world. All Hunters return with their bounty one day and that day awaits us no more! If they think this will go on, that we will fall like the Ancients did they have not been paying attention. Dundorma has not fallen to Kushala Daora! It has not fallen to Gogmazios! It has not fallen because of us! We must remindthem _why that_ _is._ "

\- Excerpt from the speech of His Immenseness in the first Call to Arms, Founder of Dundorma and the Elder Dragon Observation Team.

The Call to Arms was the first militarized action taken by the Guild against human aggressors, and would remain the name of all the Guild's future acts in similar circumstances. During this time, a series of documents called the Lao-Shan Lung Accordance were distributed to all Guild cities. The LSLA was to serve as a mandatory moral code to be practiced by the Guild's combatants, and to some extent the public, which prevented vengeance seeking and unnecessary violence against the nation-states. They were to lead by example, guide the villainous kings back into righteousness just as Lao-Shan Lung were guided away from Elder Dragons encroaching on their territory with as little violence as possible. The Guild created a separate faction from the Monster Hunters to govern the people they were protecting, known as Guild Knights and Guardians, who set the precedent for future law enforcement.

Guardians were to remain in town ready to lead the people to safety in the event of an emergency situation before returning to the fight just as the GUARDIANS of that first ravaged town. Guild Knights in particular are trained to fight humans, though at the time they were simply MonHuns with a new title and uniform, and were to be a proper military. They learn to gather information on their enemies through the prostitutes the soldiers visit, and aged veterans school the Guild on how to best take a person's life. Hunters fill the ranks, armor modified, trained anew to combat their own species.

Using guerilla tactics, stealth, and well-placed strikes to supply lines, the Guild spends years getting agents into the various kingdoms that have terrorized them – if there is one thing Hunters know how to do it is stalking their quarry, laying a well-placed trap and taking their time. Fighting in wars of attrition had been beaten into them over the generations. Wyverns were led to enemy camps to rain down fire and poison and fury, Rajang were lured uncomfortably close to Guild cities to ward off those marching, trenches threaded with explosives lined the city limits, pitfall and shock traps rip apart anyone trying to get around the Battle Quarters or Arenas.

The Hunter's Guild suffers high casualties like nothing anyone has seen in living memory but the civilians are on their side and flood the Dragon Academies with volunteers, buying time the Guild could otherwise not afford with fodder. The Guild knows that it must make each action count, they only have a single chance to stop the bloodshed for good or they will never recover from the sheer losses. It is not until every ruler is under the eyes of Guild Knights that they strike all at once, slaying _every_ member of _every_ ruling family and faction the worldwide overnight. Women who would seize control are not spared nor the children who would grow to lead for revenge. Without their leaders, the militaries throw down their weapons and are exiled by the thousands to face the harsh will of nature without weapons or armor. Any that oppose are quickly slain in the street, buried in mass graves with no record of their names, no honor, not to be remembered. The worst fate a Monster Hunter fears. Many cities were forced to fall to Demolisher cannons leaving only smoking ruins. The population is severely depleted to the point where many loyalists fear extinction, and the Guild uses that fear to prevent any uprisings. This is the first Guild Culling.

 **960-1285 AD – Earth**

Guild Knights control the usurped lands for generations, a few Wyverian GKs rather for much of their individual lives, re-educating the populations with the Lao-Shan Lung Accordance and the morality of the Guild. Armies are not allowed to form, though people have a right to gather. Civilians are taught to remember all the Guild has done for millennia, the atrocities cannot be allowed to happen again. Finally, in the year 1185 AD the Guild believes people can be trusted to rule themselves and its Knights step down from their posts over the course of the next century. However, they remain the only militarized force during this time just to be certain.

 **1189 AD – Earth**

The Peace and Truce of God is ratified in Catholic societies. It used spiritual means to deter private war. The first movement in medieval Europe to control society by non-violent means. The Guild began to withdraw here earlier than in other locales.

 **1215 AD – Earth**

King John of England signs the Magna Carta, the first monarch of many that would be forced to accept limits on their power.

 **1399 AD – Earth**

The Ottoman Empire reports several sightings of the Elder Dragon, Nefu Garumudo. The Guild confirms their presence causing a resurgence in Elder Dragon research. Likened to Anubis, many fear the creatures as a sign of incoming wrath from the gods. The Guild remains largely out-numbered again by this time and has not interfered in most the world's conflicts for decades. The Guild means only to act in the event of genocide that would threaten the entire world by the turn of the century as the animal population has risen to the point where they cannot afford to _not_ be Hunting. Poachers become a problem, especially for wyverns in the Rath, and Tigrex families, as the Guild is tasked to capacity for centuries to come.

 **1618 AD – Earth**

An information cache is discovered in the Arctic Circle by the Elder Dragon Observation Team. Believed to be an archive from the Ancient Civilization, the Guild closely guards any information that could be used in the construction of catastrophic weaponry but freely disseminates anything that would increase quality of life throughout the world. The first non-electrical telephone is built. Monster Hunter numbers begin to rise to pre-Call levels.

 **1632 AD – Earth**

The first commercial electric motor is built. The first long-range sniper rifle is designed by Sir Joseph Whitworth. Gunners in the Guild take to it like kindling to sparks. Heavy bowguns and bows-and-arrows begin to be phased out. Guild rifles are modified with materials common to MonHuns to increase weight so they cannot be stolen for casual use by militaries. Lagiacrus develop a taste for pineapples and can be found raiding Hawaiian farms miles in-land from their preferred ocean habitats. The Guild sends MonHuns only when Dole makes reparations to the indigenous people.

 **1643 AD – Earth**

Guild designs for two variations of sniper rifles are approved: a rapid fire version for implementing status effects, and a hard hitting version with a relatively slow reload that gets through animal carapace. These designs are tightly held secrets of the Guild despite political attempts to claim them.

 **1694 AD – Earth**

The earliest recorded air raid without wyverns, Austria uses 200 balloons to deliver ordnance against Venice. The Guild temporarily withdraws all observation balloons.

 **1700 AD – Earth**

A sudden Seregios migration has most of Brazil in chaos. No one knows where they came form or why they hit South America until Hunting expeditions discover the Everwood deep in the Amazon. Noted for having many Ancient Civilization ruins and more than one substantial information cache, tensions rise between the Guild and Latin American governments. The LSLAs are used to de-escalate the situation as the Guild holds the threat of another Culling over those trying to advance themselves. The Guild is treated with hostility from Rio de Janiero up to the Yucatan peninsula, and from São Paolo down to Buenos Aires. Approved information is provided to S. America all the same. As São Jose dos Campos is a Guild city, it is where most artifacts are taken to for shipping. For this reason, it possesses a large contingent of GKs and Guardians. Given the high risk of smuggling, Guild "Nyantas", Felynes registered as official MonHuns, are required to traverse the jungle and find the Everwood. This century sees a great technological boom. Gargwa are driven to extinction in Latin America. In translated hieroglyphs, references are made to an element with an atomic mass of zero. This is believed to be a clerical error. It must be.

 **1709 AD – Earth**

The first airplanes are created by the Wright brothers.

 **1710 AD -Earth**

A juvenile Nargacuga attacks the Wright brothers in one of their planes in North Carolina. The brothers escape with their lives but the plane is dragged into a tree and abandoned as the monster grew bored. It is captured and released elsewhere by the Guild, the plane remains in the tree due to local superstition.

 **1713 AD – Earth**

The first U.S. coast-to-coast long-distance telephone call is made between New York City and San Francisco. The first steam-powered automobile capable of human transportation is created.

 **1732 AD – Earth**

The first car powered by an internal combustion engine fueled by hydrogen is created. Trans-continental flights are approved. A ship traveling from Madagascar to India witnesses a Whale Shark incapacitate a Plesioth with a powerful head-butt, causing the predator fly out of the water, and flee once beneath the waves. The Guild is skeptical about the identity of the supposed Whale Shark.

 **1766 AD – Earth**

The internal combustion engine is dwarfed in popularity by the first electrically powered car. The Guild is vocal in its approval and throws assets into improving upon these vehicles. The end of the year sees the earliest design drafts for what will become the M29 Grizzly.

 **1796 AD – Earth**

The atom is split. Fission power becomes the obsession of scientists for years.

Reports of Duremudira in the Sky Corridor result in advisories to avoid AC ruins.

 **1834 AD – Earth**

World War I begins, as it is officially known, though it is arguably the _third_ world war. The Guild is gridlocked as some advocate to interfere while others argue the conflict is not sufficient to warrant third-party action by the Guild. A Call to Arms is sent out 1842. While there is not enough time to initiate another Culling, this is seen as a very real threat.

 **1843 AD – Earth**

World War I ends when Germany signs an armistice agreement with the Allies. The Call to Arms is only publicly dismissed. MonHuns, GKs, and Guardians are under orders to infiltrate as many international administrations as they can manage without being found out and begin supplying the Guild with intelligence.

 **1868 AD – Earth**

World War II begins. The Guild is again held from acting by discourse over the repercussions of another Culling. The argument against is certain it will be seen as an act of terrorism and the Guild will be wiped off the face of the Earth by nuclear weapons. The side in favor argues that without action nuclear weapons will be used on civilians as intimidation which would escalate into a cataclysmic series of events. The agents in place around the world are left to figuratively chomp at the bit, helpless on the sidelines of genocide in Europe and the world. Agents question the effectiveness of the Guild if a second ( _fourth_ ) World War could form right under their noses.

 **1873 AD – Earth**

Germany surrenders on May 8th. On August 6th, the first deployed atomic bomb is dropped on Hiroshima. The Guild agents throughout the world are driven to action in defiance of its hesitance. However, the American GKs, who believe Hiroshima means the end of the war and decide it is too late to accomplish anything, though some are skeptical. Three days later, when Nagasaki is bombed, the President and the entirety of Congress are found dead in Washington, D.C., as well as a dozen Guild Knights dead from self-inflicted gun shots. Their suicide notes are kept from public record. The Culling is total and complete by September, and the Guild asserts itself once again brandishing the LSLA as doctrine. The discontent from MonHuns, GKs, and Guardians leads to a change of leadership in the Guild by years' end.

 **1878 AD - Earth**

Demilitarization is in full swing. Nuclear weapons are disposed of and the new Guild establishes the United Nations in order to _prevent_ another war with GKs and MonHuns initially representing 51 nation-states. "Angsty" teenage Agnaktor increase volcanic activity along the Pacific Rim.

 **1896 AD – Earth**

The International Aeronautics and Space Administration is founded. Humanity is urged into productivity with peaceful application of science. A pair of unusually docile Rathians (green and pink respectively) decide to roost on the roof of the Potawatomi Hotel. Given their 400-year lifespan, Milwaukee, Wisconsin lives in fear despite the Guild's constant vigilance.

 **1914-18 AD – Earth**

The Voyager space probes are created and launched. Humanity has been broadcasting signals into space for six years, optimistic about encountering alien life.

In Ontario, Canada a Bullfango challenges a stationary train car near a bus station to a fight. Upon winning and violently mating with the vehicle, MonHuns sedate and relocate the confused animal after recovering from their fits of hysterical laughter and once they have stopped posting to Snapchat.

 **1921 AD - Earth**

Yuri Gagarin aboard the Vostok 1 becomes the first human to travel in space. Humanity officially becomes a spacefaring race. The United Nations now has 193 members and counting.

Milwaukee's Rathians, now named Chatty-noga and Stacy, suddenly have a rooster they treat as a chick. He is a nightmare for sleepy business professionals all over the metro.

 **1927 AD – Earth**

Apollo 11 lands successfully on the moon. Neil Armstrong is the first man to walk on Luna, and plants the internationally authorized flag. The rover Sojourner lands successfully on Mars in April. In July, it arranges pebbles into a smiley emoji and the picture goes viral on social media platforms.

A week later, Sojourner is "no longer functional".

 **1944 AD – Earth**

The Curiosity rover sends images with unnatural formations before transmissions stop. Contact with Curiosity is lost. The U.N. and IASA (pronounced _ice-uh_ ) are bombarded with manned-mission proposals.

 **1950 AD – Earth**

Manned-missions to Mars are approved. Sixteen vessels of various designs are licensed and given the green light. Viking 2 transmits clearer images of foreign structures on Mars, prompting discussion about potential First Contact. Protocols are drafted by the U.N., and the Guild admits that having a militarized force to protect the planet may be necessary.

 **1953 AD -Earth**

The United Nations and the Hunter's Guild come up with an agreement to allow the re-establishment of a civilian enlistment military. The first generation of commanding officers must have served a 15-year minimum with the Guild, but recruits can come from any walk of life and any race. An oversight committee consisting of U.N., Guild, and civilian representatives of non-U.N. member nations, is created to ensure this new force will not be used against any Terran for any reason. It is called the "Alliance Military of Terra". IASA is absorbed into the Alliance.

Most existing Guild agents are the descendants of genetically engineered Monster Hunters from the AC as their superior physical abilities were often taken as a "sign" of some great destiny awaiting them as agents of the Guild, while others felt that the history of MonHuns demanded service duty from them.

Few MonHuns ever bred with non-Guild members, and as a result many can trace unbroken lines back to the First Call in Dundorma if not farther. When an average civilian enters the Guild they receive basic treatments that increase their general durability so that they are comparable with the typical MonHun, before Honing. The nanobots responsible for allowing Honing are still not understood very well by the Guild as the AC evidently destroyed much of their research before the collapse. Why they did so will likely never be understood, but it remains possible to supply nanobots to civilian-descent MonHuns through the use of Zenith wyvern gems.

Traditionally, a Hone can be set as "Attack", "Armor", or "Life" by altering the configuration of the nanobots within the body. This was done by gathering various "BeRry" tonics, ore used to make armor, and Zenith gems in order to create a "technically" consumable drink which when ingested somehow "told" the nanobots how they were to arrange themselves. This takes about two hours, during which time MonHuns attempt to get the taste out of their mouths with hard liquors and spicy food with little effect. When consumed by someone without existing nanobots, they are forced to swallow an additional Zenith gem which would then dissolve in the drink and spreads the little things all over their body.

Despite relentless study, no one in or outside of the Guild have been able to isolate a single nanobot inside the gems or the ingredients of the Honing tonics and many scientists blame this on the AC, though the artificial nature of "BeRrys" is believed to be a major component.

 **1964 AD – Luna**

A small mission consisting of half a dozen ships goes to the moon in order to establish a communications base before the Mars colonists launch. Armstrong Outpost at Shackleton Crater is formally founded as the first human settlement on Luna.

 **1969 AD – Earth**

After years of anticipation, the would-be colonists are finally cleared. The crews consist of humans, wyverians, and felynes. Troverians were offered positions aboard but maintained that their place is on solid ground, having never placed any faith in flying contraptions. The majority are scientists but the Guild also deploys MonHuns for protection in the event any potential aliens are hostile. Worry grows in the public eye as people realize that extraterrestrials could be dangerous. The journey lasts eighteen months.

 **1971 AD – Mars**

Thirteen of the ships sent to Mars land successfully. One breaks up on entry, another experiences equipment failure with its landing gear leaving only two survivors, and the last decelerated too suddenly and crashed on the surface killing everyone inside. The Curiosity's trail is followed by the Guild teams, and the rover is found damaged at the bottom of a sharp cliff. The Prothean ruins are discovered in the south polar region of Promethei Planum. With the discovery of "Element None", oft called "Element Nonsense" or El-Non, which has an atomic mass of zero, some light is shed on the Ancient Civilization's technology which raises questions about the element's native origins and why and how the AC had any in the first place. But most importantly, what had it been used for?

While no life forms are found, the solid evidence for the existence of aliens excites the population. The information led to the exploration of mass effect fields, leading to the development of FTL and the beginning of detailed exploration of the Sol system. The "omni-tool" takes Earth by storm and soon civilians have hundreds of customization options available - all of them running without El-Non.

Prothean translation devices come under study, and the base programs are mandatory for all Alliance vessels and large civilian transports. Applied to the many languages spoken by the Earth's species, the hope is that the variety provided will assist the programs in the translation of alien languages into at least a pidgin language. When used in combination with an omni-tool, terrans do not have to speak more than a single language to communicate with one another. Many complain about the translation not syncing with lip movements, but several statements go out reminding everyone that this is real life and not a game.

The first instances of biotics occur in scientists who have prolonged contact with El-Non. Safety measures are put in place to limit exposure.

 **1972 AD – System, Sol**

Pluto's moon, Charon, is revealed as a "mass relay" covered in ice. Jon Grissom leads a science team toward the object and upon freeing it, they are surprised to be instantaneously transported to another system. Later named Arcturus, the mass relay here reveals that they are a vast network making traveling across the galaxy a reality. The scientific community remains uneasy about the properties of El-Non and advocate against becoming dependent on something so little is known about. While reluctant to let go of such fascinating alien technology, the Alcubierre warp drive becomes the basis for new ships in the civilian and military sectors. El-Non is allowed for the use of creating artificial gravity, but a Troverian team works tirelessly to replicate the effect and Element Zero falls even farther on the back burner.

 **1976 AD – Earth**

An accident in a Chinese laboratory studying El-Non results in a MonHun volunteer test subject being ripped to pieces after pushing a scientist to safety. What is left of them shows damage on the cellular level, and further testing with MonHuns determines that it weakens Armor Hones, compromises Life Hones, and Attack Hones are the most resistant to these "warp" explosions. Anyone subject to these El-Non based attacks is in a great deal of pain regardless of augmentation. The Alliance has a weaponized grenade patented in weeks. A starship worthy torpedo is ready months later, designed to weaken physical structures like metal plating, though these are few in comparison to standard ordnance, and meticulously cared for. The damage if one detonated on a ship would be horrendous.

The telekinetic abilities displayed by those exposed to El-Non are determined to be harmless to the bodies of those who do not develop tumors. Life Hones prevent the tumors from becoming malignant in others and are mandatory for them if they intend to use the strange abilities for any reason. This constricts them to Life if they want to live. Life Honing is widely approved for non-combatant civilians as the sophisticated nanobots strengthen the immune system and lengthen the natural life span. They are a godsend to those with disabilities and/or chronic pain. By 1998, almost every adult civilian has a Life Hone. Attack and Armor Hones are kept strictly military, and all are kept from civilian minors as they have been known to react poorly to treatment.

 **1979 AD – Luna**

Scientists invent hard-light shields for starships inspired by the omni-tools detailed in the Prothean archives. Unlike mass effect fields which only stop either high speed or low speed objects, hard-light shields behave like solid structures and will do not allow anything to move through them as long as it falls within power source thresh hold. The amount of power needed to generate hard-light is obscene compared to mass effect kinetic barriers so are installed for use as last minute fail-safes. The Alliance commissions hard-light as standard emergency shielding on all vessels should kinetic barriers prove inferior, knowing that the drain would conflict with even sub-light travel resulting in a considerable time delay before a ship could retreat.

The U.N. declares that "Terran" will serve as an umbrella term for all Earthlings in order to present a united people to any aliens they might come to find in the future. This includes Troverians and Felynes. The next two years are spent amassing transport, and combat, capable starships.

The Guild writes, and the U.N. passes, the Right Hand Man Act which requires the XO of any ship classified as a "Destroyer" or larger to be a G-rank Gold Crown Monster Hunter. These veterans are the best agents the Guild has to offer; with experience facing "Leviathan" monsters on foot, these fearless warriors are calm under pressure and quick thinkers. Many have earned Master's degrees, if not PhDs, in concurrence with their ranking which allows them to fill a scientific role when not engaged in combat. This allows the Guild to retain a consistent presence in the ever growing Alliance without seeming overbearing. They are exhausted by the Star Trek jokes almost immediately.

 **1981 AD – System, Sol  
**

The Alliance has become the exploratory head of Earth, and voluntary enlistment is at an all-time high. Once through Basic Training, every soldier is provided with standard Monster Hunter nanobot augmentation but Honing is restricted to officers, and to those with at least G-rank Bronze Crowns irrelevant to Alliance rank.

El-Non is used in a series of experiments with Alcubierre warp drives in un-manned vehicles on the outskirts of the Sol System. The result is a rip in space-time which freaks everyone out and two of the ships disappear into the opening before it snaps shut. The ships are caught on a Youtuber's omni-tool falling through a sudden rift in the sky into San Francisco Bay. The U.N. encourages caution, but is far more intrigued by the potential presented than by the consequences of casually messing with the fabric of reality. The Guild concedes on the issue and the number of experiments increase.

 **1982 AD – System, Arcturus**

In order to defend its expanding territory, the Alliance begins to construct a space station in this system as it is a nexus for many mass relays, even though Terrans have yet to encounter another race.

An accident at Singapore International Spaceport exposes hundreds of Terrans to dust-form El-Non. Roughly 30% of the children born in Singapore after the incident suffer from cancerous growths. The Guild gets U.N. backing to execute anyone found guilty of practicing immoral science and it is law by years' end.

 **1987 AD – System, Arcturus**

The Delta Pavonis Foundation, a major consortium based on Earth, begins settlement of humanity's first extra-solar colony world, the planet Demeter. Later this year, additional colonies are founded on Eden Prime and Terra Nova.

The Alliance occupies completed portions of Arcturus Station, intended to become the Alliance's headquarters.

 **1994 AD – System, Shanxi-Theta**

Shanxi is colonized. It is chosen as the first garden world to include wyverns among the imported fauna in order to mimic a proper Terran ecosystem. Many other worlds follow in its example, as the Guild has concerns about wildlife preservation on Earth due to climate change, and the current state of industrialization. Some worlds are designated as nature preserves where the animals can live in peace without Terrans, especially those that cannot replenish quickly. These worlds have orbital stations so that the Guild can keep them monitored to prevent poaching.

Deviljho are strictly forbidden from being transported to new worlds as they are enough of a menace on the homeworld.

A mass relay in the system is dormant which perplexes the Alliance. While not encased in ice, neither does the structure have the blue glow of El-Non. The U.N. orders the Alliance to leave it be and instead allow the Elder Dragon Observatory Team to study it as they specialize in the strange and unknown. This is another reminder about how little is understood about Element None and the relays. For the most part, the Alliance's warp drives are the most common and reliable means of FTL. In the meantime, the U.N. wants the Alliance to focus on filling colonies and building up existing defenses.

The El-Non and Alcubierre warp drive experiments prove fortuitous and a new method of FTL is approved, the Rift drive. Unshielded, and then unarmored, ground forces walk from Terra Nova's Alliance base to Shanxi's poppy fields through Rifts without casualties. Relays are no longer needed to travel from Earth to a single colony world, you can jump through a timed Rift with your luggage and be there in moments.

Rifts are either opened in atmosphere-to-atmosphere or space-to-space pairings as to assuage the fear that it would allow potentially hostile alien ships straight to the ground, bypassing security measures. Ships can slip from Arcturus straight to deployment zones to delight of the military and civilians alike. While enormous Rifts can be opened, large enough for two Dreadnoughts to pass side by side, a new Rift cannot be opened for hours afterwards as the energy required is slowly accumulated, massive, and quickly expended. A concern is that this will allow smuggling of black-listed animals, equipment, and even criminals into prohibited systems so Guild Knights are the only ones authorized as operators.

This remains one of the only major El-Non markets, which is viewed favorably considering the unease felt by those who need to work with the element.

 **1999 AD – Eden Prime**

Wireless transmissions are received around the planet, of indeterminable origin and are a mess of foreign two-tone noise. The Alliance mobilizes in strength, as many believe they are on the cusp of finally encountering another race. The scientists cannot wait to run the transmission through the Prothean based translator programs, and soon the thousands of people in the fleets and on the planet have something coherant coming out from radios and speakers everywhere. What they hear is this;

"-inist-er-er of the Vekl'tu Rep-l-l-l-ic…we ho- ar-...aid, anything you can- sp-re…Rak-a…in the-…system… inist-errrr-er of the Vuh-vuh-vekl'tu Rep-l-l—l-l-l-ic…we hope y- are- here-here-...reques- requesting aid, an-anything you can- sp-re…Rak-a…in the…[unintelligible] system...God Ara-rash…us…-is the Prominent Minister of the V-vekl'tu Republics. We hope you are out-th-there. Our world Rakhana is dying and we are reques-reques-requesting aid. An—nything you can spare us. We are in-in-in…the [ERROR#5864.3333331: failure to translate. Searching…] -tem… God-ss Arashu protect us."

It is everything we ever hoped.

 _To be continued…_

 **CODEX**

 **What is a "terran"?**

There are multiple native Earth species that the term covers. Nearly all have augmentations through some way or another.

 **Troverians** \- These people are short and stocky; their heads only reach up to a human's chest when fully grown. They prefer to live and work underground especially near subways as the rumbling caused by the trains reminds them of the volcanoes of their ancestral homes. Few leave Earth for the colonies before Rifts. They are also famous for sporting impressive facial hair across both sexes. Closely related enough to humans to create viable offspring.

 **Wyverian** s - Unlike other species, they evolved from avian-like reptiles as evidenced by their bird-like feet. Their legs bend back similarly to quarians but the curve is not as severe, and unlike quarians they possess sharp talons on each toe. Noted for their long lifespan of 350 years or more, they have a very different mentality than that held by humans. That being said, the two get along famously and inter-species marriages have always been a norm. They cannot reproduce with humans or troverians however as they are in different genomes. They have multiple ethnic groups similarly to humans.

 **Humans** \- Have the largest population of all the terrans, and their cultures are dominant. Can intermarry with wyverians and troverians, though only troverian unions can produce offspring. Dwarfism in humans is not linked to troverian genes.

 **Felynes** \- The descendants of Ancient Civilization experiments on domestic cats. Can alternate between bipedal and quadrupedal movement. Widely adored for their inherent cuteness, they can be as equally dangerous in combat situations as any of the larger terrans, if not more so. Their size allows them to fight from much lower and take out one's legs, while their superior night vision gives them the advantage in poorly lit areas, and their claws enable to climb smooth surfaces. They excel in the close quarters combat required in starship hallways, and many become engineers to make the most of their smallness. The maintenance tunnels on starships are covered in paintings, and purring can be heard if you concentrate. While modern guns can be made in their size, most prefer omni-blades with incendiary or cryo effects. Tech abilities are also a favorite. Can but chose not to breed with domestic cats.

 **BeRry –** Artificially made consumables credited to the Ancient Civilization, when eaten by MonHuns they will provide temporary boosts to strength, endurance, and recovery. Each of them has "BeRry" in legible font on the side, distinctly odd for a plant and why they are assumed to be a product of the AC. Linked to Honing, many assume they contain the answers to all the secrets surrounding AC augmentation but even modern instruments are futile in making a breakthrough. Indigestible by wyverns as evidenced by their intactness in dung piles, why the creatures eat them is also a mystery.

 **Guild Knights** – These former Monster Hunters are distinguished from other Guild agents by their Garment Armor or GArmor. Their dress is considerably less heavily armored than a MonHun but is better adapted to fighting in close quarters with other humanoids. Almost everything they wear is in solid colors, usually red or green. They wield dual blades, sword-and-shields, light bowguns, and later on, heavy pistols, shotguns, and submachine guns. In modern times, GKs are separate from civilian law enforcement agencies and typically only enforce Guild laws. Overly heavy and large weapons are restricted to Guardians and MonHuns.

 **GUARDIANS** – Those first MonHuns to die against [REDACTED]'s soldiers. After more than a thousand years, they are treated with reverence akin to holy spirits and Guild agents often use their names to ask for an attribute of theirs to survive, also exclamations of surprise. They were six;

Nabi – Dual Blades: for demonic speed when the world is hell.

Soltoro – Hammer: for the strength to move through any storm.

Kaguya – Charge Blade: for adaptability when hope seems lost.

Estefan – Light Bowgun: for a steady heart when surrounded by fear.

Alma - Long Sword: for a fury than slices through your foes long after you've gone.

Muramasa – Hunting Horn: for reciprocal faith in one's allies. Most common during the First Call when dozens could die if not for absolute trust that everyone would do their jobs to the letter.

The Guild created the Guardian-class knight in their honor.

 **Guardian knights** \- See above. Distinct from GKs and MonHuns by their blue uniforms/armor of singular design. Wield lances and carving knives. They are steadily phased out by police, and the Guild instead develops elite sniper units under this designation.

 **Monster Hunters –** The most common Guild agents, these people are the backbone of the Guild. With numerous weapon specialties available to them MonHuns can fight just about anything and win. After the Call, they will even fight people if necessary and are arguably the best at it compared to GKs and Guardians. Guild Knights are more commonly employed as assassins, and Guardians defend first and attack later. MonHuns will run up to a Deviljho and punch it in the face – there are several hundred documented cases – as a rite of passage. Best known for their hereditary genetic augmentations, which GKs and Guardians also possess, they are often what comes to mind when one thinks of the term "super soldier". They are also more likely to have cybernetic limbs as a casualty of punching ravenous monsters in the face.

 **Guild Ranking in the Alliance Military of Terra**

Any vessel by the Alliance is crewed by Alliance and Guild operatives. The Alliance will have majority and the Guild will compromise most ground teams.

The Guild continues to implement its ancient ranking system in order to maintain a clear leadership hierarchy. These are kept on Guild Cards, which serve as licenses to hunt monsters with the Guild's authority. Low Ranks are 1-4, the rookies and know-nothings who can barely reload. High Ranks range from 5 to about 60. These are more experienced members who likely _have not_ faced Leviathan-class monsters, though there are exceptions. G-Rank above that has three tiers within it: Bronze, Silver, and Gold Crown. All of them are approved to face "Leviathan" monsters, and Gold Crowns have been known to go it alone. These are true signifiers of skill: Bronze can be trusted to take on Ukanlos, Silver will have faced off with Gogmazios, and Gold have tangled with Shah Dalamadur. All G-Ranks are eligible for Hones and the Guild keeps constant track of Apex monsters from which they can acquire Zenith gems. The numerical value next to the LR, HR, or G on their Guild Card is an individual's place within their tier. LR 3s are lower than HR 63s who are lower than G-Bronze 60s. All Guild agents have a Guild Card and a rank in this way, even the administrative assistants.

Omni-tools have made swapping information a relative breeze, and casualty rates fall as communication can occur in real time without having to fumble with physical device on the battle field. It should be noted that ranks in modern days, while still determined by merit, are not necessarily a sign that someone fell a monster like thousands of years ago, merely that they have the skill deserving of the rank.

In the Alliance, Guild ranking is irrelevant to the Alliance structure. The two function parallel to each other, not perpendicularly. Ranking earned in the Alliance does not affect Guild rank and is not influenced by it and vice-versa. The Right Hand Man Act has placed G-Gold Crown agents as First Officers so that a veteran's eye is always at the forefront of an altercation and someone with Guild approved morality is at the helm, but they are ultimately Alliance at the end of the day. The captain of a frigate can be a LR 4, and a G-Gold Crown can be a Private First Class. The differentiation is made by looking at the uniform a person wears.

Those serving as XOs due to the RHMA wear Alliance gear with those four letters in the center of their chest plates and report to both the Guild _and_ the Alliance brass. The XOs of heavy ships must already have a G-Gold Crown rank of any numerical value, as it is impossible to rise inside Guild ranks while in the Alliance. While it is a pain in the ass, sheer numbers mean the list of candidates for any ship fitting that description is literally thousands of names long so finding a qualified candidate is not an impossible task, just a tedious one.

Guild agents wear the more organic armor of MonHuns. It is mostly a stylistic choice which makes it easy to tell allegiance at a glance. A person in Alliance blue is under the U.N.'s jurisdiction, and someone in the Molten Tigrex motif will be directly under the Guild's. Alliance soldiers almost never turn over to the Guild. When Guild agents must work alongside the Alliance, the MonHuns will answer to either the Captain or the highest ranking Guild agent depending on the situation. Captains and high tier MonHuns serving together on the same ship will usually have plans of action and lines of succession ready for any situation to minimize any confusion.

* * *

A/N: If you have made it this far, thank you for reading. I took a lot from the wikis of both games, and I love me, some, commas. Please review so I can know if there's anyone who wants to read more because I'd love to write again.

~ Solvent Harp37


	2. A quarian and a krogan-

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware/EA. Monster Hunter is property of Capcom. I own nothing.

* * *

'If not us, then who? If not now, then when?' - John E. Lewis

* * *

 **1952 AD - Somewhere in the Terminus Systems**

Aboard a near decrepit retired asari battlecruiser, Captain Zeeme'Zaaram vas Sepan paces anxiously on the bridge. A pre-Pilgrimage youth, Fusi'Toma, breaches "Ma'am? Ma'am?"

"Yes, what." she deadpanned.

"Are we…is-is it wise to…"

"…"

"Should we be doing this?"

"…no." Zeeme turns to face the younger quarian. "If the Admiralty Board knew we were meeting with krogans in the Terminus they would have our heads. The Council already condemned us because of the geth, if they knew we were in… _talks_ … with Urdnot Jarrod's son well. I don't imagine anyone on this ship would be spared exile."

The adolescent female begins to fidget with her hands. "S-so…" she swallows, "I don't mean any disrespect but…but if you're sure about that, _why_ are we here?"

The Captain tilts her head. "Because…" she releases a sigh and visibly sags. "Because I don't want my grandchildren to grow up on ships, Private. This has served us relatively well since we fled Rannoch, but how long can the quarian people survive in this manner? Decades ago, we had to start wearing these suits," Zeeme fiddles with her hood, "when we started getting sick from interaction with others of our own kind. How long before linking environments is too much for our bodies? How long before we forget what we look like because these masks hide our faces?" shaking her head, Zeeme motions toward the observation window on the starboard side of the ship. "The galaxy is a large place, Fusi. Do you know why we haven't tried settling a new world?"

"…ma'am?"

"Because quarians are stubborn _idiots_. There are still those with 'nar Rannoch' names alive today. _I_ was born on Rannoch. The Admirals were all born on Rannoch, and they would rather force us, a people of _millions_ , to be wandering nomads because it is either _the_ homeworld or no world, young Fusi."

"But how will these krogans change that, Captain? They're probably the only species the Council hates more."

"We are counting on that, actually."

"What?" the girl startles.

The Captain places her hands on the back of her chair, fingers curling tightly into it as she leans forward, lights gleaming slyly over her mask. "No one will care if a few of them go missing. No one at all."

A red warning light flashes from the communications terminal and the officer there calls out, "Captain! We are being hailed by ships that just entered the system. LADAR says they're batarians."

"Batarians? Capta-!"

"Peace, Fusi. Krogans don't exactly have railyards to build their own vessels."

"But sir, w-w-what if-!"

"Don't panic. It's the krogans." Straightening, Zeeme orders, "Patch them through on the secure line."

"Yessir."

The line opens with a static crackle of the ship's neglected speakers, "Well, well. Almost didn't think you'd have the quad to keep your word, Zaaram."

Sneering, she replied, "A pleasure as always, you fat bosh-tet."

His laughter fills the ship, deep and guttural. "I like you too _, twiggy_."

From somewhere behind him a chastising voice clips, _"Wrex."_

" _Keep your klixen on the harvester, Bakara. I wouldn't make friends with a quarian if they were gonna shit their suit every time I opened my maw. You know I like 'em feisty."_

" _Wrex."_

" _Okay, okay. Stay off my tail."_ Clearing his throat, he adopts a serious tone. "Last chance to go back, Zeeme. I know this is a big risk for you."

Zeeme's voice is steel in her reply. "Change is always dangerous. Thank you for the _formality_ though. Are you ready to board?"

"Heh, I bet you never thought you'd ask a krogan to-."

" _Yes, Captain_. We are."

" _Why are you looking at me like that?"_

"Very well, a cleaning crew will meet you before allowing you into the rest of the ship."

" _Acknowledged. Thank you."_

" _So…can I just assume… that I'm not getting any later or…"_

" _See you on the ship, Captain."_ And the line went dead.

Captain Zeeme'Zaaram vas Sepan turned on her heel and marched off to meet their guests.

* * *

No one every accomplished anything by maintaining the status quo.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.

~Solvent Harp37


	3. Hello, Admirals

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware/EA. Monster Hunter is property of Capcom. I own nothing.

 **1999 AD – Eden Prime**

On the CIC of the Alliance dreadnought, _Wrath of Poli'ahu_ , the majority of the Admirals stand before the main communications console. The alien transmission continues to play on a loop as the techs attempt to clean it up and re-run it through the programs. A line is open in the holo-projector in the center of the room, and members of the Alliance Oversight Committee are visibly anxious.

"Why can't we get the system's name?" A disgruntled felyne, Renshaw, growls. He doesn't like all the eyes staring at the back of his head.

"It might not exist in the Prothean databases." His troverian colleague, Temple, offered, "They couldn't have met _every_ species in the galaxy, no matter how great they may have been."

Impatiently, from Arcturus, Admiral Carradine clears her throat and snaps, "You have been at this for hours. Will we ever know where this is from?"

"Paula," cuts Admiral Sabb, "even if we had that information this is no simple matter. This is an _alien_ _transmission_. We must act carefully, and that means looking at it as thoroughly as we possibly can." Sabb nods to the working pair, "Take your time, Lieutenants."

" _Nya_." The feline waves her off with a grumbled, "Working, working…"

"Don't undermine my authority, Chlothilde, I am not a willful recruit in need of a firm hand." She pins a withering glare on her old friend from light-years away, "This is an _alien transmission_ ," she mocks, "that started broadcasting on every device in the system! Who's to say this isn't a hacking attempt or worse?"

"What we _do_ have translated is clearly a distress call." Admiral Sabb shakes her head. " _We hope you are out there._ They probably haven't even left their home world, let alone their own system, Paula."

"The whole point of the Alliance is to protect the people of Terra," responds Carradine. "They could be trying to lure us into a trap! This _requesting aid_ business could just be how they draw in naïve good Samaritans of which they then take advantage."

"Even if that ends up being the case," interjects Admiral Battin, "it is because the Alliance exists to protect Terra that we have amassed our forces so, Admiral Carradine." He looks at her from the corner of his eye. "Could it be that you doubt our ability to hold the line against an aggressor? The _first_ potential aggressors we've come across in the bare century we have spent looking to the stars?"

"Of course I am, Battin. You just said it! We have barely been in space for over a century! Who can know how long this species has been active? Will we blindly follow every trail of bread crumbs to the ginger bread house knowing we could be the ones thrown in the oven?" Scoffing, the Admiral crosses her arms. "I am not sending my troops to the fire without just cause."

"What could be more 'just' than helping a people in need?" Battin argues, "The message says that their world is dying. We cannot allow a people to die due to our own insecurity, Carradine."

"And if I am right? You can pretend the Alliance is…is-remember that show? 'You think you're hot-shit-in-a-wine-glass, but really you're cold-diarrhea-in-a-Dixie cup.'"

"The... the Venturing Brothers?"

"…yes."

"…anyway," Admiral Judson begins after an awkward pause, "I must agree with Admiral Carradine. I will not believe this is a peaceful species based on a single message. If we knew more, if we had proof that they were truly in need then I might be inclined to help them. _Might_."

"Lieutenant Renshaw, what is the current state of the transmission?" Admiral Sanburn nearly begs.

"It's mostly put together, sirs. We just can't get the system they're supposedly in, and without that we can't pin them down on the prothean maps." The felyne flicks his ear. "Lieutenant Temple's algorithms can't make paws-or-tails of it, sirs."

"If I may Admiral," Lieutenant Temple follows, "I believe it's likely missing because the people used a newer dialect or language that wasn't in the Mars database when they encountered this species. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense for the rest of the message to translate leaving only the name out." Temple swallows as the eyes in the room zoom in on her. The Admirals are quiet for a long moment and she continues, "It's just my theory anyway. I could be wrong. I'll look at my equations again."

"No," Admiral Ribble replies, kindly. "No, this is good. It is a sound idea, Lieutenant. It could be that they named the system using a language isolate, similar to Japanese."

Renshaw nods enthusiastically in agreement. A blue light begins to flicker on his console and he hurriedly sees to it. "Wait, this is-"

Admiral Carradine sighs and cuts him off. "Did you find anything new at least?"

"Actually, yes," Renshaw meows, "while we couldn't get the name we _did_ figure out what direction it came from."

The Admirals visibly perk up.

"What?!" Carradine snaps. "When did this happen?"

"Just nya-ow." Renshaw sneered in displeasure, tail lashing behind him in agitation. "I was about to tell you, but you didn't let me finish the sentence." He points at his console's alert symbol, as though anyone else could differentiate the multitude of notifications. "See this light? This light means things, sirs. I look at the lights and the lights tell me stuff and then I say what the lights mean, ma'am, it's like my whole thing. I went to college and everything, ma'am."

Admiral Carradine's face reddens and she opens her mouth only to be cut off by Admiral Judson.

"Lieutenant Renshaw, I will overlook your disrespect as a result of how long you have been working on this, but I need you to get to the point. Admiral Carradine, patience please." Admiral Judson takes a step forward, murmuring quickly to himself, " _Help me, Kaguya_." Then he turns to the communication station. "Where is it from, Lieutenant?"

"Pulling it up the galaxy map, Admiral." On the holographic projector, a red isosceles triangle forms replacing the Admirals on Arcturus. The wide ends extend from four to five O'clock away from Earth on the map. "We're at the tip," he gestures with his paw, "the best we could do is trace it to our farthest satellites, and rule out the systems that scans show don't have any garden worlds _and_ are too far for this type of radio signal to reach us as intact as it is." The map blinks away, sent to the Admiral's individual omni-tools so those at Arcturus can return into view.

"That's still a lot of potential worlds."

"Less than forty, sir."

"The matter now is what to do with this information."

"The hell do you mean, Judson?" Sabb remarks, "We must initiate a search!"

"Yes, we must." Ribble agrees.

"We cannot go in blind. Is no one listening to me?" Carradine disagrees. "It could be a trap!"

Judson nods. Battin sighs.

"I am not suggesting we go in without a plan. Why, I'm insulted that you have so little faith in me. We fought a Shen Gaoren together." Sabb frowns at Carradine. "We need to search regardless of the threat they pose. If _you're_ right," she rolls her eyes, "then we'll know where a hostile race calls home. If _I'm_ right, we'll find a people that needs outside interference if they want to survive."

"I…" Carradine softens, "It's not a lack of faith, Chlo. It is caution. We don't have experience with non-terran species. The protheans were already extinct, and we have only been a truly space-faring race for less than a century. What if we bite off more than we can chew and are confronted by something we cannot handle?"

"I believe the risk is worth it." The two women proceed to make their best attempts to stare the other down.

Admiral Battin speaks up. "Let us vote, and decide a course of action from there." The other Admirals all nod in agreement. "Those in favor of searching for this _'Rakhana'_ say aye. Those against say nay. Aye."

"Aye." Sabb.

"Nay." Judson

"Aye." Ribble.

"Nay." Sanburn.

"…"

"Carradine?"

"…aye."

"It's decided then."

"Signal the fleets. We're going to Rakhana."

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review! The ship names come from the names of various weapons in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate which is the latest of the title I have. "Poli'ahu" is evidently a goddess of snow in some Hawaiian myths. The names of all characters in this story were pulled from a name generator online.

I plan for this story to cover the ME trilogy. If I create other stories within this universe it'll be about the average person's life in this universe probably. Not anything major that'll need to be read for crucial context.

*That quote is from the Venture Bros on AdultSwim. Which I do not own.

~Solvent Harp37


	4. -walk into a bar

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware/EA. Monster Hunter is property of Capcom. I own nothing.

 **1952 AD – Somewhere in the Terminus Systems**

The little quarian in the corner was afraid of them. Any fool could see it, from the way she was looking over her shoulder to the full-body trembling, and the female shaman of clan Urdnot was certainly not a fool. She was thankful, however, when her apprentice Bakara took her to the side to reassure the little thing. Her maternal demeanor and distinctly soothing voice would surely calm the anxious quarian. The shaman then turned to the captain, who was doing an admirable job of putting up with Wrex.

"-then we kicked the bodies out o' the airlock, took the ship, and here we are."

"Fascinating," Captain Zeeme drawled, "truly. How certain are you that they didn't run for the airlock once they saw your, erm…handsome…face?"

Wrex chuckled. "Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings. I'm very sensitive, my hide is 'bout as thin as a salarian's, really."

"That gnarly shatha carcass you think passes for a hide. You've got a hump only your mother could love, lizard." The captain scoffed, lolling her head the way quarians had adopted in lieu of visible eye rolling.

"I loved him through his Rite when that Thresher Maw made quite a mess of him, and I will love him to my dying days, Captain." The shaman allowed herself a brief smile, her son shaking his big head in displeasure. "Now that we are clean, might we return to the matter at hand?"

The captain gave her an acknowledging nod and motioned the three krogans to follow her. "Of course. I must offer my apologies," Zeeme led them into the ship's mess. "This vessel was recovered from Korlus. It had been well-gutted by the time we came upon it, and as it stands we are using mass effect shields to plug several hull breeches."

"Including where the conference room was, I presume?" asked Bakara.

"Yes."

"We have secured this room against all manner of listening devices, and your omni-tools will have their recent history wiped every two minutes." As she spoke, their quarian guards left them to take positions outside the door.

Nodding, the shaman began, "In the messages you sent, it was clear that you were uncertain about how many of your people would be coming, Captain Zeeme. Is that still the case?"

"Yes, unfortunately. It is possible for anyone who is displeased with the Fleet to leave. The problem is that these people are usually not very vocal, and they do not wish to leave their families behind. I know a few captains who would come, but not without their families and not with their ships. Even those that want to leave will not risk further endangering what remains of the quarian race."

"That's why we're here." Wrex replied, "You want the krogan to get you large ships." He turned his head to set a single eye on Zeeme through his helmet. "It's why did you asked for me instead of Jarrod."

"Correct." Zeeme clasped her hands behind her back. "Thankfully, you are not your father. You do not openly advocate for war with the Citadel races as he does, and you have some clout in your clan. Many older Battlemasters heed your advice, Wrex."

"An element of his personality for which I am immensely grateful myself." The shaman praised. "Females no longer have a voice in our politicking, but I am glad I did not raise my eldest into a mindless warlord as is his father's want."

"If he wants an heir," Wrex hissed, "he can have Wreav. That pyjak takes every word he says straight to both hearts. We'll gain nothing from war. Especially when we can't just replace every charging idiot with a few dozen new ones on a moment's notice."

"He's your brother, Wrex." Bakara chastised.

"He is right, however." The shaman turned to her apprentice. "Jarrod passed the Rite of Parentage when Wrex was just a few days old, while Wreav's father never bothered. He was the only male presence when they were young, and Wreav wanted the attention. I encouraged it because I did not enjoy seeing him so envious and Jarrod approved because it allowed him to be twice as arrogant. By the time I realized what a mistake it was, there was no saving him from Jarrod's influence. But I digress. Captain?"

Clearing her throat, Zeeme said, "Thus far my plans remain dependent on krogans capturing batarian ships from slavers. We use those ships to house as many of our combined peoples as possible while searching the far reaches of the terminus for a new home."

Bakara startled. "Our peoples?"

"I…know that I am asking for quite a lot-"

"If the Council got wind of krogans fighting batarians when they're too shit to stop the Hegemony from using slavers against their own colonies, they'll stomp us down for good," answered Wrex. "They're afraid of a big war breaking out. While we aren't a Citadel race anymore, the batarians have always been looking for a reason to try and usurp power away from the Council. Before they send matriarchs to placate Khar'shan they'd probably bomb Tuchanka."

"An immediate extinction to finish this slow death." The shaman agreed.

"I am aware. That is why I am open to having willing members of your species join us in this journey. I do not have faith in our current system as 'migrants'. I have tried repeatedly to convince the Conclave that we should settle a new world, at least temporarily, if only to protect our civilians but they're hearts are set on Rannoch."

"Didn't the Council forbid the quarians from settling new worlds so as to prolong your punishment?" asked Bakara.

"…worlds that they know about."

At this, a grin dawned on Wrex's face. "Aha! So that's what you want to do."

The younger female krogan stepped forward. "You want…to head for uncharted space."

"More precisely, I want us to _disappear_ from _known_ space. The Fleet would want to keep tabs on us and the salarians would aid them, the turians would harass us more openly due to how much smaller a force we would be." Zeeme began to pace restlessly across the length of the room. "The batarians might try to enslave us for our technological prowess, while the asari continue to have their crests directed at us. Never mind the potential dangers, it is those around us who pose the greatest threat." Motioning to Wrex, she said, "Once we have our peoples with us, you would join us with your current ship and signal the Hegemony. Slaver's vessels have a unique signature which allows the batarians to decide whether to send their military or the 'unaffiliated' militia to support the ship. A relatively small contingent would find us seemingly in a fire fight."

"And then?"

"Your ship will be full of as many battle worthy krogans you could convince to join our cause. When the batarians bridge the ships, you storm them and take that ship. Preferably, it would be a dreadnought they had 'happened to find'."

"Batarians don't have distress signals like other races because they believe it demonstrates weakness. When their ships don't report back they don't go looking for them, in order to maintain deniability." The shaman pointed out. "It…would be easy to fool them the first time. What of the other ships?"

"We would engage them, of course. Quarian ship-to-ship combat suites surpass anything the batarian military could have, much less slavers. They have better armaments but we can sabotage and outmaneuver them."

"After taking their dreadnought," Wrex inferred, "the rest of the quarians would board them, right? Then we destroy or take the rest of the slaver's ships and use them to take off."

At the looks from the females in the room he supplied, "It's what I would do."

"That is exactly what I had planned. We would need to mimic the stealth capabilities of the batarian ships for some of our own, which would take time, but it would allow us to make several relay jumps without drawing Citadel attention. Their ships are generously proportioned to maximize room for their…cargo…which we could use to make room for the krogans.

The shaman tilted her head, "What about the long term? Say we pulled this off without a hitch, if we assume that the total combined population would be anywhere from several hundred to a few thousand, how would we provide basic necessities? How would this keep the Migrant Fleet or the Council from investigating?"

"Once dispersed upon the more serviceable ships, we would destroy vessels we brought from the Fleet which we will have damaged to implicate a struggle."

"Establishing the fiction," Bakara followed, "that it was a genuine slaver attack."

"Yes," replied Zeeme. "The Fleet would be too unstable after our departure to dedicate an intensive search. The Council would blame the Fleet for not protecting its citizens, and neglect to search both for the reason you brought up earlier, Wrex, and because it would serve as further admonishment for the quarian people."

"And given the Council's distaste for krogans, they would either not notice a sudden dip in the population or contribute it to fighting between rival clans."

"The Citadel Council has turned its back to both of our peoples. The quarians will surely die in our limited conditions – there is no room for growth! I want my descendants to have a homeworld. If that means it is not _my_ homeworld, then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make."

"What of Rannoch?" asked the shaman.

"When I was young I believed we might take it back, but when my son died…he died without having ever step foot on a planet, without ever having a lung full of its air. My daughter…there is still time for her. Maybe in a few centuries, we could take it back…but I am not holding out any hope. Rannoch is a lost cause. Let the geth hold onto that rock. I will find somewhere far from the Council to build my people a new future."

"That is…an admirable thought, Captain." Bakara offered, gently.

Waving, Zeeme continued, "As for necessities, if enough of my people wish to leave then the Fleet would provide us with at least a live ship. We have grown accustomed to eating a vegan paste, but we could make room for the levo food you require. Including varren, as I doubt you would seamlessly adapt to a similar diet."

"That means you are dependent on convincing enough of your people to warrant that, Zeeme."

"The Fleet is on a constant precipice of civil war, Wrex." Zeeme stopped her pacing to stand before the imposing krogan. "A few words to the right people and a live ship is almost guaranteed."

He crossed his arms. "If it isn't?"

"We'll make do. We can repurpose one of the batarian ships to serve as a live ship. Our combined peoples would be much, much smaller than the Migrant Fleet. It would be easier to provide for them, and it doesn't hurt that we have learned to be exceedingly efficient. It would not be without struggle though, as I am uncertain about how long this voyage would need to be."

"We would need to find two worlds. A dextro friendly one for the quarians, and a levo one for the krogan."

"Much of the galaxy hasn't been properly explored." The shaman spoke up. "Especially near batarian space."

"That's why we need your people. You need to do the heavy-lifting for us, protect from the batarians and who knows what else. In return, we will ensure the availability of food and maintenance of supplies. Would any of your people be interested in finding a new home?" Zeeme swallowed. "Are any of you?"

The krogans shared a look amongst themselves, the seconds dragging on uncomfortably. The shaman broke the silence with a snap of her fingers, "The female clans."

Bakara nodded, slowly, "We largely live apart from the males because of their fatalism. The genophage has made our people mercenaries and pirates. If we found a new world to settle, away from the Council's watching eye and away from the influence of males like Jarrod…we could rebuild."

"Many of the older females will likely agree after some talking to," the shaman agreed. "We have long been tired of our children dying for petty rivalries or credits. The genophage has made every child precious…"

Wrex nodded. "I don't like the idea of living in space on some cramped ship, but if we found some place to breed for at least a generation our people might survive, even change our ways for the better. Hell, they might be the only krogans left in a few centuries." He turned his head toward Bakara, behind his helmet his red eyes lowered to her distended belly. She noticed and gave him a reassuring nod.

"So?" Zeeme was trembling in her suit and took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.

With a few final words with the women, Wrex nodded once. "We're in."

Zeeme exhaled, relieved. Now they could get to work.

Back on the batarian ship…

"Well," Wrex yawned, "this is going to be something they write battle songs about someday."

Behind him, the shaman shoved Bakara in his direction with a pointed look. Taking the hint, she grabbed his arm. "I need to discuss something with you."

"Huh? Sure." The big male led her to the captain's quarters. He sealed the door with his omni-tool, running an anti-surveillance program just in case, and looked to her. "What is it?"

Bakara sighed. "You are not going to like it."

"I don't like plenty of things." He huffed. "I don't like tupari. I don't like the way turians taste. I don't like that Wreav fulfilled your mating request 'on my behalf'." He eyed her in that gentle protective way that looked so out of place on his scarred visage. She returned an apologetic smile as she rubbed her belly. The only good thing Wrex's brother would likely ever contribute to their race, her first child. Wreav had forged a response message when he realized that Wrex had gotten her request and she hadn't seen it for the trickery it was until Wrex arrived at the female camp days later. The only reason Wreav was still alive was because their mother begged for Wrex to show her that he was better than his brother and father. Wreav was ferociously and consistently attacked by Eclipse mercenaries on his next trip to Omega, and Bakara knew that Wrex had a few old asari friends but decided to keep that to herself. The krogan before her was a good one, one of the last.

"I have to ask you to do something for me."

"Anything you need."

"I've decided to join the quarian mission for a new home, you know that." He nodded. "And I know you want to challenge Wreav for the Rite of Parentage."

He nodded again. "Even if he had right to your pup, he'd just turn them into another rabid varren for Jarrod's war or use them as a tool for a treaty." Red eyes drifted to her pregnant stomach. He looked a bit longing, but she allowed him that. This was supposed to be his child, after all. Could be, in the ways that mattered. "I was gonna issue it with the shamans once we got back to the DMZ. But what did you need right now? Food for the lil' pyjak?"

"I'm fine. It's about your part in this."

"What about it? I have to convince krogans we can trust without letting the salarians know, mount an attack on the batarians, and then I'm along for the ride same as you. For you and the pup."

He really was sweet when given a chance. It was why this was so difficult. "I need you to stay, Wrex."

"Stay with you? I thought that went without saying."

"No." she snapped. He went rigid in the way that meant he was listening very carefully, putting his intelligent mind to work. "I need you to stay here, Wrex. I need you…to not come on this journey."

For one krogan, the universe went very, very still.

A/N: Thanks for reading. To be clear, Zeeme had a son who died when he was young which was why she was allowed to have a second child. And yes, Wrex's mother is the female shaman. It's my personal headcannon as to why he is the way he is. And no, Bakara isn't a shaman yet which is why Wrex says her name – she hasn't given it up yet. That being said, you know where this is going. T.T

~Solvent Harp37


	5. Where were you when they found it?

A/N: Thank you again, Indecisive Bob.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware/EA. Monster Hunter is property of Capcom. I own nothing.

 **1999 AD – Eden Prime, approximately an hour before the alien transmission is received**

Groundside, a twelve-man squad stands at the entrance of a cavern. The opening is short and narrow so most of the party have removed their gear in preparation to squeeze through. The lead Ace Hunter is tapping away at her omni-tool while the other is using his to scan inside the immediate area within the cave. A sudden pinging and flash of green has the Ace opening the familiar off-white screen of a mission brief.

"Alright," Ace Turbett begins, "the Rear Admiral has given us the go ahead." The wyverian turns toward her human second and asks, "Craton, are we clear for entry?"

He jerked his head in affirmation. "Yessir. Tracking devices indicate the bogeys are about a mile in and getting deeper every minute. From the looks of it, I'd say they're exploring."

"Understood. Everybody in!"

Once inside, they begin to re-equip their supplies and check their suits for ruptures.

"As you know, we're here for pair of red khezu." Turbett speaks as she adjusts the strap of her switch axe. "While tailing them, a smaller squad discovered the ruins but had to beat feet due to injury. We have three objectives. Capture these animals, find and destroy the way they got into the ruins, and secure a safe entrance for the scientists to use later."

Receiving nods of affirmation, the Ace drew out her heavy pistol and double checked its tranquilizer rounds. "Montoya, Louvier, mapping the tunnels is your priority. One of you with each team; know each other's positions at all times. The last thing we need is someone getting lost. These are ambush predators." They saluted in response. "Demarco, Kalkowski, you're the most familiar with these monsters so you'll each be taking point."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Aye, sir."

"Ace Craton, your team will be heading east," She paused momentarily to bring up the rudimentary map, two blinking dots moving farther away from their position and from one another every second. "In a zig-zag, lefty-loosy-righty-tighty manner."

"It's like they forgot how to use their eyes or something," he chuckled.

"…"

"…"

"I'm emotionally cringing." Louvier shuddered.

"All of my holes are angry. Am I dying?" Ormswell asked the room.

"What?"

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Turbett crossed her arms.

"…well, yeah."

"Sir, we talked about that." Hutchins reminded him.

"Time and place, Craton." Kalkowski scolded.

"I exhaled but now I can't inhale again." Montoya wheezed. "Please help me." Fenno patted her back sympathetically.

"Everyone makes jokes, you know, to lighten the mood?"

"Sure, when they're good." Turbett conceded. "That's why you're not allowed."

"Wha-why?"

"Because you're bad at it, sir!" chimed Ericson. "This place is dark and creepy already, I could do without your sense of humor sucking all the warmth from my body."

"The 'mites 'n 'tites look like wyvern fangs," Mayes shivered. "Yikes."

Laurens nodded vigorously, pointing an accusatory paw. "You bring us down to your level, nya, and I'm vertically challenged enough."

While he gaped in dismay and assured them that his husband thought he was funny, Ace Turbett snickered, turning on her heel and gesturing for her team to follow. "Enough talking folks! We all have our assignments." She grinned as they ventured into the haunting, echoing dark. "Let's hunt!"

* * *

The tunnels were pitch black and the faint sound of dripping water could be heard all around them. The ground was increasingly slippery and Craton was certain they'd happen upon an underground river or basin soon. Even with their boots aqua-phobic coating, someone was jerking one way or another every other step. However, that could also be a good sign – khezu liked making their homes near a source of water.

"Ace?"

"Yeah?"

"I think it's time to switch to thermals."

"Heard," Craton activated his radio. "All Bravo squad: change HUD to thermal display."

Confirmations poured in as the squad changed their readouts. Sonar served well enough when moving carefully through an unknown environment but in a fight in close-quarters with an acid drooling monster they would need real-time heat detection.

"Squad report," the Ace barked.

"Six o' clock clear," responded Louvier.

"Three o'clock cl-"

"I got movement," said Hutchins. "Eight o' clock. Moving slow, can't be more than thirty meters, signature is small."

"Acknowledged," replied Craton. "I see it. Move in."

The team turned and began walking as quickly as they could toward the heat source.

Fenno hummed, "Looks too small to be a bogey."

"Likely," said Craton. "Might be…whelps."

"Shit." Someone cursed softly, reflecting how they all felt. Whelps were bad news. As they neared, Demarco who was closest swore again.

"Whelps confirmed, Ace."

"Great."

The group huddled around the heat source, a small member of the deer family, a kelbi stag. It was alive, but breathing with difficulty. Fenno briefly reverted his HUD back to sonar and examined the creature.

"It's been here a day or two maybe." He moved his omni-tool over the animal's distended side and belly, flinching away when the flesh moved unnaturally. "Scans show three whelps making a buffet of the poor bastard." The animal could smell them, if the flaring of its nostrils was anything to go by.

"Can we put him out of his misery?" asked Louvier. He knelt down and petted the animal's forehead. Its hind legs were mostly gone, shredded flesh making a long pitiful trail into the depth of the cave and a few dislodged teeth hung onto its body. Their suits couldn't entirely filter the air and the squad was subject to the bitter smell of burned meat and acid.

"Yes and no. We're here to relocate the longnecks, not kill them. That includes their young." The dying kelbi chuffed weakly as Craton drew out his pistol and darted it in the neck. "He can go out in his sleep at least."

Ormswell shook his head. "I don't understand why these things are allowed to colonize our worlds."

"What Eden Prime lacks in forests it makes up for in underground cave systems. While the imported trees grow into proper forests, the only large carnivores here are khezu and gigginox. The problem is that aside from the tall spires giving away their location, this planet has its prothean ruins underground. We collapsed most tunnels to the ruins but this pair was detected miles away from their initial drop zone in an unexplored area," answered Demarco. "Brute tigrex are gonna be brought in once there's plenty of cover for the herbivores up top. They eat khezu."

"…you're not making me feel better, dude."

"I'm not here to do that. Now we know that they're hunting which means that they're getting comfortable."

"Comfortable enough to breed."

"Unfortunately, especially for this guy. Louvier, contact Montoya and let them know what we found," Craton ordered, solemnly.

"Aye, sir."

"Doesn't look like any of them have emerged yet." Fenno remarked while Alpha squad was brought up to speed. "But we're about sixteen kilometers from the nearest entrance, and about six kilometers from the prothean site. The parent absolutely destroyed this thing's hind legs so there is no way he managed to drag himself far from where he was left."

"So either the kelbi was caught and deposited here…" Hutchins thought aloud, "or it came into the cave somewhere nearby, probably by the ruins, and the khezu found it."

"There could be an opening to the surface at the main site." Craton nodded. "That's bad. Khezu literally drip acid everywhere they go – it's almost guaranteed they'll irreversibly damage the data cache. We need to hurry to the ruins. I'll place a containment field around the body." He dropped to a knee and began setting up the hard-light cage, then turned to Louvier. "What's Alpha team's status?"

"Ace Turbett says they've got eyes on a bogey, about forty-five meters southwest of their position. They're in deep, almost twenty-nine kilometers from the surface. They were preparing to engage when I made contact."

"It's as good as caught then. Kalkowski and Turbett are old capture pros." Craton stated. He stood and walked around the glowing field, using his omni-tool to lock it in place, preventing the whelps from escaping until they could be relocated. "How're our radios?"

"Pretty bad even with the digital signal amplifiers both of the teams have been leaving behind. We had to use short-burst tactile Morse code both ways."

"Well, we expected that. Where's our target?"

"The tracking chip had it less than two kilometers away an hour ago, but the signal has been choppy for a while."

"What's our distance from the ruins?"

"Part of it is actually above us according to records from the first team, but there isn't an entrance into them nearby. We're five kilometers from where they had to retreat, and it looks like there might be an opening that we can reach about twenty meters north-northeast from there."

"Understood," Ace Craton replied. "We might be able to cut it off. Demarco, back on point. Double time!"

* * *

"It's leg is broken, sir!" The wyvern fell heavily on its side and immediately struggled to rise, flapping its wings and attempting to put weight on its un-injured limb. The scent of smoke and ozone was thick in the air, and the hissing of the khezu's slime coating sliding over the scorched flesh and exposed bone of its leg was the kind of sound that makes a person shudder involuntarily.

Ace Turbett recovered from her weapon's blast, morphing it back to axe mode. "HUD confirms, Laurens."

"Traps are set!"

"Kalkowski!"

"Holding position, my rifle is locked on the wound over the scapulocoracoid."

"Need us to hold the head back?"

"Negative."

The khezu managed to stand and extended its neck, roaring deafeningly. Turbett noticed Montoya placing her hands on the sides of her helmet, the noise cancellation no doubt damaged when she took that last lightning discharge. Fortunately, Ericson and Mayes had placed themselves between her and the wyvern, shields raised and guns at the ready if it thought to try anything.

"Mayes, warning shots only. You three drive it-" Turbett jumped back to avoid the creature's lunging mouth. "Drive it this way." She countered by swinging the flat of her axe against its head as hard as she was able. The large khezu stumbled with the smack, falling to the cave floor, again, visibly disoriented. "Laurens?"

"Right behind you, three meters, ma'am. Pitfalls are stable."

"Good man."

The animal managed to stand once more, but turned away from Turbett seemingly scenting the air. Montoya's group fired rounds into the ground near its feet from their flanking position, and it lurched toward the Ace rather than fleeing back the way it had entered the tunnel as it had planned. She threw herself into a backwards roll, once, twice, the raised surface of the traps offering welcome traction beneath her boots. The animal limped forward, rolling its serrated teeth, a renewed surge of acid frothing over from its mouth onto the floor.

"One…more…step…" Turbett hissed. It shrieked in surprise as the ground gave way. The strong metal cords wrapped around the animal, pinning its wings and legs to its body, drawing it in further the more it struggled. A resounding boom echoed through the tunnel as Kalkowski shot his heavy sniper rifle. If the Ace had been anyone less experienced, she might have startled as the bullet whizzed an inch from her head. Laurens did, the newest member of the squad unused to Kalkowski's dramatics. He was pretty low to the ground, though, so he was probably fine.

The khezu screamed as the sniper struck true, the piercing munition flying through the thick hide, the explosive property of the round shattering the bone on impact, scattering organic and metal shrapnel in the surrounding flesh. Arterial blood spray painted the Ace as Kalkowski let another shot lose, ripping through the major vein normally protected by the bone and burying sedatives close to the wyvern's heart and thunder sacs. It struggled for a few more moments before collapsing as it lost consciousness.

The team cheered in success. "Laurens, I need you to help me with the medigel!" Turbett called out. "We need it alive and your paws will fit into the entry point better than my hands." As an afterthought she said, "Nice work, Kalkowski."

"Thanks, Ace." He jumped down from his nook in the wall and went over to help treat the other accessible wounds on the creature as Turbett instructed the rookie on how to apply medigel on an otherwise fatal injury. While they were distracted, he checked on the rest of the squad.

"Montoya, status?"

"Ericson's got some nasty burns on his back but his hone's keeping the muscle together and we're neutralizing the saliva right now. Mayes can't feel the fingers in his left hand, and I'm a little twitchy but fine otherwise."

"Has Bravo squad reported again?"

"Negative, they were going to try and get to the prothean ruins before the other khezu. The signal was bad then, and it'll only be worse now even if we could reach them." She gazed briefly at the cave ceiling. "We're miles down and the rock is dense, I think we won't hear from them until we double back."

"And we can't send reinforcements," Ace Turbett spoke up, "until they've dealt with their target and cleared a tunnel big enough to fit this thing through."

"Can we load it up onto the carrier at least?" Kalkowski asked the Ace.

"In a minute. We need to suture this wound up a bit before we raise the trap. You got 'em good, if a little too close to the heart for my liking."

"It's going to be a long walk…" Ericson murmured.

"This thing is huge!" Mayes cried, "Aww crap it's gonna be heavy."

"…son of a bitch..." Montoya swore.

"Can I be excused," Laurens pleaded, "from hauling it? I'm super short and small, boss."

Pretending to think about it, a moment later Turbett replied, "Nope. It's a good thing Craton's giving you time to stretch, huh?" The Ace then proceeded to laugh at the squad's groaning.

* * *

Demarco peered over the edge of the cliff, the height making him uneasy. As he backed away, Ace Craton drew out a depth flare. The burst of light and heat lit up their HUDs, and after a few taps on his omni-tool, he tossed it over the edge. A distinctly light 'plop' sound confirmed their suspicions, even as they watched the flare sink alarmingly quickly into the wet abyss.

"So there's water."

"Pitch black, ice cold water."

"It's at fifty…eighty…hundred-thirty…" Craton murmured, "it's still going…two-hundred-seventeen meters deep."

"I vote we don't go in there. For reason of…I like being alive." Fenno backed away slowly.

"Me too," agreed Ormswell.

"And having all of my limbs."

"I have a baby, so I'm very important. I must return to the surface." Hutchins stated firmly.

"This isn't a democracy," drawled Craton. "But I-"

"I would like to change my kid's diaper, and have him pee on my face again, a thousand times, before I go down there and have to fist fight the thing from the Black Lagoon."

"There's no life signs, Hutchins."

"So you're saying it could be a zombie version of the monster from the Black Lagoon."

"What? No. I was going to say-"

"What if it's like that movie The Cave? Or The Ruins?" Ormswell questioned, unhelpfully.

"Calm down." Craton ordered, and the squad stilled. "Take a deep breath, and listen to me. I was going to say, that we are not going down there. Our suits are not designed to keep us warm in water this cold, and the scans from the flare indicate that we'd probably get separated with all the winding, narrow passages, and the strength of the current anyway." He raised his arm, omni-tool glowing a soothing lilac. "We only came over here to confirm that it was a water source, to have it marked on the map." He put his back to the cliff and joined Demarco at the entrance to another tunnel. "Those weren't even good movies."

"Blasphemy."

"You could've said you didn't want to come to movie night. You don't have to hurt my feelings!" Demarco called from behind Craton.

"Wha-You're being hysterical!"

"You won't be saying that when we get infected by some freakish virus that hasn't seen the light of day in millennia and makes you think my face is delicious," added Ormswell.

"Well, if that happens, you will be the first person I apologize to. Now let's find the very real animal that wants to, and actually could eat your delicious face."

"The signal's clearing up," Louvier noted. "It's beat us to the ruins though. I reckon we should see light soon."

"…are you saying you're already having cannibalistic thoughts?"

"…I'll deal with you later. Louvier-"

"Estefan. It's happening."

"Jesus Christ. Louvier, has there been word from Alpha team?"

"No, sir."

"I think…yes! There's sunlight at eleven o'clock," someone cried.

That set the team off, racing ahead and switching their HUDs to optical view. It took several long minutes to adjust to the brightness, but there it was. The blue sky, a few clouds, birds overhead, and the sun beating down into the caverns. Directly ahead of them, the dark metal of the prothean ruins gleaming in the sunlight.

"Marked it on the map, Ace."

"Heard."

General cries of relief burst from the team, and Craton noted tension leaving their posture. As professional as they could be when the situation called for it, he understood why Turbett had assigned the squad's respective routes. This bunch was far too unused to fighting in the dark, cold cave environment, and would likely be in the midst of panic if they had followed her as deep as she liked to venture. Though, he'd be lying if he said he was comfortable going so far into an unknown cave as the middle-aged wyverian was.

"Where's the bogey?"

"On the far side of the ruin, about half a kilometer in. Scans are picking up kelbi life signs nearby – it's probably going hunting soon."

"We can make use of that, take it by surprise when it goes in for the kill. Is it coming out?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't appear to be in a hurry."

"We should investigate the ruins then. We need to catalogue any damage that might have been caused."

"Should we contact the Alliance? I've got a signal…whoa, that's a lot of chatter."

"Send a message but don't bother with a line yet, our mission isn't high priority so we shouldn't interrupt whatever is going on. We can call once we have the khezu. Let them know both team's position's, and make sure to designate our exit for Alpha's extraction."

"Aye, aye."

Ace Craton jogged over to the ruins, running the standard prothean identification programs on his omni-tool to bring up the nearest console. It blinked to life a few meters away, and he was quick to bring up the diagnostic controls.

"Low power reserves?" He hummed, "That's unusual…most of these ruins are running on solar power by now because of equipment failure in the generators. No damage detected in the vicinity. Unresponsive over near the khezu, figures. What is…" His attention fell onto a rapidly blinking light on the console. His omni-tool suddenly pinged, and a shock of electricity arched from it to the new light. The whole squad startled as the ground, cave walls, and the very air itself seemed to shake violently. Rock cracked liked thunder as pillars rose up from the deep in the earth, and large plates of stone began falling around them.

"Take cover!"

"Get away from the tunnels!"

Craton's team ran toward him as boulders fell near them, hoping that the center of the area would provide safety. The Ace dropped emergency hard-light shields, and the squad squeezed in under the pulsing red surface.

"What's happening?!"

"Why is it happening?!"

"I'm not sure," replied Craton. "I think the prothean VI in my omni-tool triggered this…event…somehow."

"Why would it do that?"

"I was running diagnostics on the facility," he explained, "the standard procedure we've been using ever since we've known about the Mars archives. This isn't a reaction that's occurred anywhere else."

"Let- let me try." Ormswell shuffled over to the console, running his omni-tool's identical programs. "What was your last reading, sir?"

"That this place is still operating on the original power source."

"That's…"

"Strange, I know. I thought the solar arrays might have been damaged, but they're fine."

Ormswell hummed, confused, as he examined a new reading.

"Anything enlightening?"

"Yeah, um…power is being syphoned to something below us."

"Syphoned?"

"Let's see if I can…" As Ormswell gave a few experimental taps on the ancient console, the tight cluster of pillars before them started sinking into the ground unlike the ones that had arisen by the tunnels. After several seconds, the whole area stilled. Boulders were no longer coming free of the walls, and a calm, mechanical voice broke the silence.

"What is it saying?"

"Translators!"

"Is it a recording?"

"Damn. We've never been able to properly decipher their language."

"We only figured out the VIs because they were designed to be decoded with relatively simple mathematics, but there's an organic component to their communications we're missing. Anyone have an idea?"

"I'll go down."

"Ace?"

"It looks like a passage. Maybe it wants us to go inside. Louvier?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Be ready to contact the Alliance, and see if you can reach Turbett's squad."

"Aye, aye."

"Hutchins, Demarco, with me. The rest of you, cover our backs and don't touch anything else."

The pillars had formed something of a spiral staircase, where each 'step' was several meters wide and just as far down from the last. When they cleared the final step, a wide tunnel lay open ahead. Floor lights lined the path into the cavern as far as the eye could see, but they were the only lights. The focus of their attention was an elevated platform propping up a pod of some sort with an active alert symbol, making an audible noise with every flash. Craton approached cautiously before scanning with his omni-tool and gasping, lowering his arm and turning to face his teammates.

"Tell Louvier to get the Fleet Admiral. This is Priority M1-FC, authorization Seven-One-Nine-K-D-Zeta."

"Sir?"

"This is important." Craton said breathlessly. "Hurry."

* * *

 **CODEX:**

 **Ace Commanders** : The leader of a ground squad, usually the highest ranking MonHun on the roster. Alliance marines following them refer to them simply as "Commander". Less formal than Alliance officers.

 **About armor** : Unlike the hunters of old, modern armor worn by all military personnel is completely sealed. Air-tight and temperature regulated at the push of your omni-tool, any soldier from private to Admiral can survive in the vacuum of space in the event of a hull breach as long as they have their helmet equipped. The smart material lining every piece of armor can be set with a flick of a finger, but is made with bullet-resistance in mind rather than long-term exposure to the elements.

So while a person could survive in the Antarctic tundra or Saharan desert for a few hours, they would need to seek shelter before equipment began to malfunction. The material possesses nanobots reminiscent of those used in hones, allowing the material to be molded, stretched, and ripped in any manner of ways to plug tears in an ally's suit or hold onto someone dangling off a cliff's edge with no fear that they'll slip. For this reason, everything from civilian clothing to military fatigues is lined with this material. Colloquially it is known as, "saran wrap".

 **Hard light (cages) and Khezu reproduction:** Due to power requirements, hard light tech is a rarely utilized resource in the field. One of the approved uses is to contain toxic or parasitic creatures or substances for the purposes of relocation or disposal at a later time. Khezu and gigginox whelps are parasitic by nature and if found outside the parent's specified zone, must by contained as soon as possible.

Khezu are hermaphroditic, possessing both male and female genitalia so that a single individual can create progeny without the need to mate with another member of the species. When sexually mature individuals are ready to reproduce they paralyze a prey animal and inject their eggs into the body. When the eggs hatch, the newborns begin to consume the host while it is still alive.

Gigginox are a close relatives of the Khezu but unlike their larger cousin, their eggs do not require a host. Despite this, whelps of this species will search for a host to feed on anyway. Infertile Gigginox can produce eggsacs that explode and the sudden increase in air temperature at the area of detonation is so significant that spontaneous lightning occurs, with fatal results.

Once free of the initial host, whelps of both species will wonder in search of another. They will latch on to anything they can catch from aptonoth to small children to adults to other flying wyverns until they are too large to do so. In the event the host is not to their liking, perhaps diseased or simply too foreign in nature, they will merely eat their way out and search for something more appetizing.

For these reasons, wayward whelps must be quarantined and the safest means to do so is with a hard-light cage. Cages can be scaled and deployed via omni-tool but require a separate power cell/generator. Smaller cages draw less power but cannot withstand as much force as larger cages.

A/N: Thanks for reading. The Great Sword lets you smack monsters so why wouldn't other weapons? I'm working under the assumption that in a real situation you could wield your weapon of choice with more liberty than game mechanics provide. I have never seen the movies I mentioned, but they exist apparently. And for those who can't remember from that first chapter:

Estefan – Light Bowgun: for a steady heart when surrounded by fear.


End file.
